Fyre's Eyes
by midnightstar4ever
Summary: "Hermione," A roughly angelic voice called out in the dark. Could this be Merlin welcoming me home? I could feel my body shaking violently. "Wake up, damn it," I didn't respond to his furious request. Would Merlin really use such foul language? I would never respond to such a furious request.
1. A World at War

_Disclaimer: I can honestly say, from the bottom of my heart, that I own absolutely nothing related to the Harry Potter world. If I did own it, I probably wouldn't be on here posting my stories, or trying everything I can to make a name for myself; I would have waaaaay too much money for that. _

A/N: I know nothing about Wiltshire or the English country side, and I won't lie to you, but I'm basing this in the country, and so I'm adding a village nearby for the sake of a story. No hating please. And I know I miss spelled fire :P but this spelling was cooler and I meant it like Fiend Fyre

**FYRE'S EYES **

_Chapter one: A World at War _

*CRACK*

I jumped as the loud roar of the storm echoed throughout my room like a ferocious beast; its voice deep and throaty. Storms, if you could even call them that, were nothing new to me these days. They were always raging outside, just beyond the window pane. And to make matters worse, they had been ever since the war first began; and I figured they would rage until long after the war had ended.

I took in a deep breath as I let my hand rest lightly against the cold window pane. I gazed off into the distance. It wasn't hard to let my eyes focus on the grand manor that lay just beyond the line of hedges that marked the end of my quaint little home and the beginning of 'theirs'. It was simply there nestled tightly into the vast forest that surrounded it. In the eyes of a muggle, 'their' house was normal enough with its tall looming windows and neatly trimmed hedges. But to any kind of wizard, that very same house was the epicenter of it all. It was the home of all our terrors.

I couldn't help but glare at it as I watched lightening shoot up from within its boundaries; a sort of blue lightening that seemed to hug the mist like an old, long lost friend. I had been wishing the house gone now for as long as I could remember. Knowing what lies within it had always unsettled me. Though, I'm pretty sure Malfoy Manor has that effect on everyone.

My family moved to the Wiltshire country side the summer before I turned three. Our move was mostly due to the job offer that my father had received at a local dental firm. Moving us out here into the country had seemed like a good idea to him at the time, but it was a decision that had affected all of our lives, and not necessarily for the better.

After the move, to help her cope, my mother and I would often make frequent trips to visit the only park for miles. It was a quaint little stretch of land located in the center of a small village just inside the borders of Wiltshire. It was a place where flowers could bloom freely and where nearly anyone could feel at home, even when you were light years away.

It was there at that park that we first met the Malfoy's, well two-thirds of them at least. Over the weeks my mother and Narcissa Malfoy, a tall elegant woman with bleach blond hair and a pointed chin, became as thick as thieves. The story wasn't as bright for me and her son Draco. Draco was a vile little boy with high cheekbones, murky gray eyes, and a snarky personality. None the less, we hated each other from day one.

As the days went by and the seasons changed our mothers grew closer and closer, but at the same time, the hatred Draco and I harbored for each other grew stronger as well, oh so much stronger… From the time we could walk Draco was either stealing my doll, Naomi, pulling my hair, or calling me vicious names that I shall not repeat; and it was all because I was different from them. All because I wasn't 'magic'… or so he had thought at the time. It wasn't until I was nine years old that I really began to prove him wrong, that we all began to think differently.

It happened one day after Draco had stolen my journal; he had taken it and climbed high up onto the highest branch of the large oak tree that resided in the center of the park. He had known I couldn't reach him up there, and so he had begun reading it so that the whole park to hear about how lonely and friendless I was, causing the other children to laugh and point at me; just like they would a monkey in a zoo.

I remember the exact words I used as I yelled up at him, I had told him that if he didn't give it back, that I would make him regret it. My threats didn't sway him in the slightest bit so he simply scoffed and continued to read from it. In that moment something changed with in me. It was like a fire raged with in me. As I stood there glaring icily up at the limb he rested upon (all the while wishing that it would topple down and crush him to death) I watched the thick old limb snap in two. I watched as he came tumbling down, just like Humpty Dumpty. Much to my dismay, it didn't crush him to death.

After that day, as you probably guessed, I became known as the town freak. It didn't matter to them that local authority's deemed it an accident… That they claimed the tree had been rotten through and through. That was also the day I became known as a thief. And not just any thief; I was a thief who stole ancestral magic.

*CRACK*

My thoughts were disrupted as yet another bolt of lightning shot up from the ground. This time, however, it was from within the boundaries of my own home. "How odd," I whispered as I watched several flashes of dark light flare up throughout our yard… It was almost like…. "Merlin," I jumped up frantically and I scrambled over to my bed. I had casually left my wand nestled warmly into the quilt my grandmother had made me as a child. I knew something terrible was going on.

"MUM! DAD!" I called out frantically as I romped down the staircase, "MUM! DAD!" I called out once more, skidding to a halt in the sitting room; both my mother and father were looking up at me with startled expressions.

"Gracious, Hermione, where's the fire?" My father laughed light heartedly as he lowered his paper and peered at me over the top, his glasses resting on the tip of his long crooked nose. "What's wrong, sweet pea?" He asked seeing my troubled expression. It probably looked as if I had just seen Merlin himself resurrected.

"We need to leave, there something going on at the manor," my voice was almost pleading as I watched him fold his paper up into a tidy little square and sit it down on end table beside him.

"Mia," he fussed as he ran a hand loosely through the thinning tuft of greying red hair that covered the top of his head. "Nothing is going on. We are safe here, Dumbledore said…" I cut him off. It was always the same story with him.

"Dumbledore may be right about a lot of things but sometimes he's wrong, I would feel a lot better if we just left for the night… We could stay with Molly and Arthur…" I suggested vehemently, my arms flailing helplessly around me. The thunder had begun to rock the house, they were now trying to get in. "We would be safe with the Order or even at Grimmauld place." My voice was strangled.

"No, sweet heart, I think your father is right. We need to stay here." My mother told me as she turned around to face the conversation, I could see the finality of her word written in her warm brown eyes. There was no leaving. "And besides, Cissy would let us know if we were in any kind of danger." My mother was naïve to the whole matter. She didn't understand that this was war! Things weren't that simple anymore.

"Mum…" I was cut off as the house shook violently once more. I looked at my mother with panic in my eyes. A loud crash sounded out from the kitchen and footsteps became present throughout the house. I think we all knew in that moment, that we were far from safe. We were going to die that night. There was someone- multiple someone's - in our house.

"What in the blazes." My father mussed angrily as he pushed himself up out of his chair, the footsteps growing closer, he gave a little grunt as he stood up.

"Well, well, well, looks like someone let their guard down…" A malevolent voice pierced the silence. My heart thudded to a halt. I turned to face the source. I watched as a wicked grin spread across her long pointed face as she looked at us with glee filled amber eyes, her black mass of hair lightly masking her face. She was the cat who had caught not one mouse, but three. "IN HERE," She called over her shoulder at the remaining 'intruders.'

"Who are you? What do you want?" My father's voice boomed out, I could hear the fear he tried so well to hide as he stood in front of us.

"Oh, now surely your darling daughter has told you all about me," her eyes landed on me, her grin growing wider, "Surely the filthy little bitch has mentioned my power." I felt my mother lunge past me, fury coursing through her, I didn't even have time to stop her.

"My daughter is not filthy nor is she a bitch; she's a much better woman than you will ever be!" She spat as she feebly threw her fist in the direction of the woman's nose.

"MUM!" I screamed, but I was too late to save her. Bellatrix was simply much faster than my mother, who now lay withering on the floor. "NO! STOP IT!" I screamed as I fell down onto the floor beside my mother, tears streaming down my pale face; my father right beside me. I could see his face contort in a pain I could never feel, as he watched the love of his life wither in pain as she was tortured mercilessly.

"As you wish," the woman cackled as a green light resonated through the room leaving nothing in its mercy… my whole world went black.

OoOoOoOoO

"Hermione," A roughly angelic voice called out in the dark. Could this be Merlin welcoming me home? I could feel my body shaking violently. "Wake up, damn it," I didn't respond to his furious request. Would Merlin really use such foul language? I would never respond to such a furious request. I was too busy gasping for air, my lungs screamed for it. It was after a few failed attempts that my lungs finally gave way and allowed its precious air to enter, but as it did they filled with smoke instead. It was in that moment that I realized that something had happened, something had gone terribly wrong.

I didn't know what to do as I lay there, immobilized, with someone's arms snaking around my waist, lifting me up into the air. My angel's musky scent was strong in my nose; and it comforted me. "I swear to Merlin if you die, I will kill you," The voice told me angrily. My mind laughed as I comprehended my angel's words, 'Silly, Angel' I thought dreamily, 'you can't kill someone who has already died.' I inhaled once more; but I soon regretted it.

It really did feel like I was drowning in the smoke as the person hauled me through the house, cursing here and there as he would bump into a chair or stumble over a rug. It seemed like an eternity before we actually made it out of the house, an eternity before I felt my back crash into a soft substance I knew to be grass. I had long ago memorized the feel of it; its sweet fragrance. I felt someone pushing air into my body, and I took it hungrily, but soon I was breathing on my own again.

"You're safe now, help is on its way," My Angel's voice whispered to me as I let my eyes flutter open, if only for a moment. The last thing I saw was the piercing gray eyes of my savior before passing out once more and sinking farther into the blackness.

**A/N: Not sure when I'm going to get to update… I planned to have this finished before I posted… buuutt, I've been waiting two years to post it and I just can't wait any more! I want to know what y'all think. ~Taylor**


	2. Waking Up

_Chapter two: Waking up_

Waking up was probably the most difficult part of my entire recovery. The pain that I felt with in my body and my mind seemed, at the time, to be too much for me to handle. It didn't help me in the slightest that I didn't really know what was going on; all I knew was that the Death Eaters had been in my house… They had tortured my mother… They had tortured us all… I also knew the pair of disembodied eyes that had saved me from my fiery fate; though I knew it wasn't the eyes that had saved me.

Every nerve in my body seemed to ache as I tried to move. Every muscle screamed in pain. The most prominent source of my physical pain seemed to radiate from one distinct portion of my body, my left arm. It was as I tried to lift my arm that I got the full gist of how much pain I was really in.

"Oh good, you're awake!" A cheerful voice doted as I let my eyes flutter open to the most blindingly white light I had seen in my entire life. As my eyes adjusted to the room around me I could only just make out the shape of a short, stumpy red headed woman making her way around the room, collecting potions, creams, and salves. She bustled back towards me quickly, "how are you feeling, Dearie?" Molly Weasley asked me as her caring brown eyes locked with my own; hand cupped against my forehead. I could see the hours of devotion she had put into making me well clearly written in the deep purple bags beneath her eyes.

"Like…" My voice came out dry and frog like; I had to swallow several times before continuing, "Like I have been run over by the Hogwarts Express," Mrs. Weasley smiled at me knowingly, the way a mother would at her sick child. I knew that she had suspected nothing of the less.

"Why, yes, I imagine you would feel that way." She chuckled, summoning a small wooden cup; she began to pour me a cup of some sort of slimy, green potion. "After all you've been through." I saw her face morph into one of sorrow and sympathy, "enough of that though," She cheered up as she handed me my potion and told me to 'drink up,' she then proceeded to tell me that I would feel better once I had. I do have to sat though, it smelled AND tasted worse than it looked.

"Mrs. Weasley?" I asked carefully as she proceeded to redress my wounds, I bit my lip as I waited for her to reply. I wasn't all too sure of how to approach the subject.

"Yes, Dearie," She asked me lovingly, her small smile wavering. She knew what I was going to ask.

"What happened?" Tears were already falling down my cheeks, they had been for a while now. I was afraid of what she might tell me.

"Dearie, you have to understand that none of us could have known," she said. Abandoning the bandages before her she placed a hand against my cheek. "Something went wrong with the enchantments…" she looked down briefly at her hands before looking back up. "How much of that night do you remember?" She asked me calmly.

"I was in my room watching the manor from my window, and I saw them…" my voice broke violently as I desperately struggled to breath, " I-I grabbed my wand and made my way down to mum and dad," fresh tears broke the surface, "I told them we needed to leave, but they wouldn't listen to me." I took a deep breath and paused. "Then they broke in, Bellatrix called me a filthy bitch, mom attacked her." Tears were streaming down my face. There was no need to elaborate any farther, she knew. "That's when I blacked out." We both sat there in silence for a moment as I cried. I knew in my mind that the inevitable had happened, that all of my worst fears had come true. "She killed them didn't she?" I whispered as I looked up at her, I knew that she had, there was no question about it. Bellatrix LeStrange had taken my parents from me.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione." Mrs. Weasley said, I continued to let my tears slide down my cheeks. I blacked out once more.

OoOoOoOoO

"How long have I been unconscious?" I asked blankly, looking up at the plain white ceiling of Ginny's bedroom. Her poster of Viktor Krum, which was taped conveniently to the ceiling above her bed, smiled down at me.

"A week," Ginny replied as she watched me carefully. A million thoughts were running through my mind as I comprehended what it was she had just told me. It had been _one whole week_. It had been just seven days ago that we had all sat in the sitting room drinking tea and laughing about things that could no longer be seen as anything but trivial. I had never even gotten to say goodbye to them; the funeral would have been days ago. I hear it was lovely…

I began to sob at the thought of never being able to see my mother or father again. I would never again wake up to the sound of my mother singing as she made pancakes for Father and I, nor would I smell the scent of my father's aftershave as he pulled me in for one of his ginormous bear hugs. I cried a little more realizing that they would never see their baby girl graduate, or be there to welcome me home from school, or to even see the day that I finally prove to Malfoy that I am just as good as him.

I felt the bed beside me dip in a bit as Ginny lay down beside me. She wrapped her arms around my limp body and pulled me close. So many thoughts, so many feelings, and so many emotions resided with in that hug. She didn't just feel sorry for me, instead she hurt with me and cried; like any best friend would. She felt some of my pain for me.

"It'll get better, Hermione." She promised. "I know you'll always miss them, but the pain will lessen as the time goes by." At the time I didn't understand how she could tell me something so pointless, so 'idiotic' as I dubbed it. I didn't think it would actually get any better; I mean how could it? How can you ever get rid of the pain, the one that builds up in your stomach like a bunch of rampaging butterflies that want nothing more than to kill you? That feeling of utter loss…

"Why couldn't I have died in their place, Ginny? Why did it have to be them?" I sobbed into my best friends shoulder. In my mind it wasn't fair, and to be honest I don't think it ever will be. "Who pulled me out of the fire?" I asked looking up at her; she looked affronted by my question.

"What do you mean who pulled you out?" Ginny asked, confusion written across her face. "You got yourself out of that house…"

I rubbed the back of my hand across my cheek. "No, I was unconscious, I remember somebody carrying me out of the house. I remember him leaving me there on the grass; I remember his eyes…" I told her, trying my best to remember as much as I could about that night. There was no way I could have imagined my savior, my angel, he had been real. I knew he was.

"No, Hermione, no one saved you."


	3. Healing

_Chapter three: Healing _

To everyone who knew me, the un-godly had happened. Hermione Granger was officially dead. This girl, the one everyone saw and spoke to, she wasn't me. She didn't have that dazzling spark in her eyes; the one that screamed 'Hello, I am Hermione Granger, nothing you say or do can hurt me.' She didn't have that stunningly sharp wit that I take so much pride in. she didn't read the books she loved so much, she didn't speak unless spoken too – and even then it was rare, and most of all, she didn't feel. She told herself that she had nothing to live for.

For months I sank into the same bitterly bleak routine, always doing the same things, always keeping up appearances, and it required very little effort on my part: (*) I'd wake up, shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, silence, silence, silence, smile, ignore the stares, accept their sympathy, fight the tears, walk fast, eat lunch, silence, silence, silence, get up, don't say a word, go upstairs, lay in bed, silence, silence, silence, don't cry, ignore the stares, accept their sympathy, shower, sob, cry, cry, re-dress, go down stairs, head down, pretend to be okay, eat dinner, silence, silence, silence, listen to them laugh, listen as they joke, slip out of the room, go upstairs, lay down, cry, cry, cry, fall asleep, dreamless sleep, and repeat.

It went on like that for about a month and a half; I don't know the exact amount of time it took me to realize that I was wasting my life away as part of the living dead, and I doubt I ever will. It was the day I got my Hogwarts letter that my bubble of despair finally shattered into a million shards and I started to heal.

This letter wasn't just any old letter; it was the ONE my mother and I had been talking about since the very moment I set foot on the platform following my first year at Hogwarts. I'm not really sure exactly how long I sat there just staring at it, terrified of what the smooth beige envelope might or might not hold within it.

As I stretched my arm out towards the letter, a shiver ran up my spine. I could feel my mother's presence in the room, even though I knew she wasn't really there… not in body at least.

Before I could stop myself I was breaking the smooth crimson seal with the letter opener that had been left conveniently on my bedside table. I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes as I let the contents of the envelope gently spill out onto the bedspread. "Breathe, Hermione, it's not the end of the world, If you got it, then you got it. If not… it's no big deal." I was lying to myself. It was a huge deal. All I had ever wanted was to be head girl. If I didn't get it, it would have surely added to my devastation.

"On the count of three," I whispered to myself, I could almost hear my mum edging me forward, telling me that either way she would still be proud of me. "Three," I was shocked to hear myself, I hadn't even heard myself start counting but I let my eyes snap open and I nearly screamed. There on my bed, lying on top of a familiar letter rested the most beautiful golden badge I had ever seen.

I reached out and ran my fingers across the smooth, golden surface and watched it shimmer in the sunlight. A beautiful silver lion with large crimson eyes, roared up at me from the center. A smile broke out across my face for the first time in nearly two months, I was happy.

OoOoOoOoO

"Good morning, Harry," I said cheerfully as I flopped down into a chair across from him. His bright green eyes were glued to the Daily Prophet, obviously absorbed in the latest Wizarding news.

"Morning, Hermione," He said calmly, eyes never once leaving the paper. As I sat their waiting for him to realize who had just spoken to him, and who he had just brushed off, I took the time to really look at him for the first time in two months.

It was hard to believe that the boy sitting across from me could really be 'The' Harry Potter. My best friend. The supposed savior of the Wizarding war. So much had changed about him while I was 'gone'. He was almost a completely different person. From just one glance I could tell that he had grown at least a foot and that he had grown scrawnier due to said growth spurt. His height wasn't the only thing that had changed about him, but I couldn't really place what it was aside from the fact that his hair now fell into his eyes. He really needed a haircut.

He was just about to take a bite of his toast when he suddenly he froze in place. He quickly let his paper fall onto his plate with a soft thump. His eyes slowly shifted up to look at me, a wide grin playing at his lips. When he confirmed what he had just heard, his jaw nearly hit the floor. "Hermione?" He asked in amazement as he sat there looking at me with a lost expression. Amazement filled his eyes as he rubbed them violently. It was like he was a ghost for the first time… okay maybe I'm not too far off.

"Harry," I said raising an eyebrow at him. His paper had long been abandoned on chipped table top.

"OHMYMERLIN!" He slurred rushed to jump out of his chair. A loud crash rang out as the chair collided with the stone floor. He quickly made his way around the table towards me before grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him. As he examined me, his lopsided grin grew wider. I smiled back at him. "I'm not hallucinating, the zombie finally woke up…" we both laughed.

"What in Merlin's name…" Mrs. Weasley shrieked angrily as she marched into the dining room, completely unaware of what she had stumbled in on. "Her-Hermione?" the old woman asked squinting her eyes. As soon as she confirmed that I was in fact Hermione Granger, she rushed forward and began to pull me in to a bone crushing hug. "Oh, Hermione, I'm so glad to finally have you back." She was crying now. Walrus tears were sliding down her plump face. It was like I was a long lost daughter returned home to her. "Harry, quick, get the others. I know that they are all dying to see her. The raven haired boy quickly dashed out of the room. I was home.

Ginny was the first one to come running full speed into the room. Her eyes lit up with pure bliss. It had been a little over a month since I had stopped talking to her all together and I knew she was glad to have me back. "MIA!" She shrieked as she threw her thin arms around arms around my neck, and proceeded to choke the living daylights out of me. She wasn't going to letting go.

"Gin. Cant. Breathe." I managed to choke out as I attempted to pry her arms off of me; tears were streaming down both of our cheeks.

"Sorry," she said, quickly loosening her grip on me. The others had started to make their way into the room, smiles on each of their freckled faces. "Is it really you? Is the zombie really gone?" There was fear in her eyes. Fear that she would once again lose her best friend to the gloom.

"Yes, Gin," I laughed as I took as step back, allowing the others to 'welcome' me back. "It's me. And as for the zombie, well, I think it's safe to say she's gone." Ginny leapt at me once more in excitement, the rest of the family piling in after her making it one big giant hug.

"So what made you forget about your parents?" Ron asked dumbly from behind me. The room fell silent. My stomach lurched with pain at the mention of them, but I wasn't going to cry… not any more.

"Ron!" Several voices scolded as they all turned to face me. All of them expected me to break down again, to sink back into my depression.

"No, no, it's quite fine question." I said leaning back on the counter for support. "Ron, to answer your question, I haven't forgotten about them. I never will. They were my mother and father; they brought me into this world." I took in a deep soothing breath, if someone had a pin, I would have heard it drop. "When I opened my letter this morning, something in my mind clicked. I can't give up just because they are gone, they wouldn't have wanted that for me." No one spoke for several seconds.

"You are exactly right, Hermione." Harry told me as he walked over to stand next to Ginny and I, "I know what it's like to lose both parents, and I guarantee you that you'll miss them every day of your life , but they will always be with you here… in your heart, and no matter what, they will always be proud of you." I had never heard Harry sound so much like Dumbledore in my life, but I knew he was right. I was glad to have come back.

(*) I modeled that after a part of another story I read, though it is different, I felt the need to cite it, the author is Provocative Envy, her stories are absolutely amazing, and I would feel wrong if I didn't mention it.


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